It’s as thin as paper.
Resting on my neck, it’s cold.
I grip the wood that perfectly fits my hands and my head.
My neck has a crink in it, holding up my head just so I can see the world stretch out in front of me.
Parallel to the horizon made me feel as if I had never seen the world like this before, beautiful, simple, eternal.
I realized its the last thing I’ll ever see, this brings me some solace.
Everything that has ever mattered and ever will is out there.
I did my time.
I asked myself if I was satisfied with what I have done.
The harsh truth is that I have to come to terms with it whether I am satisfied or not.
He flips the blade.
I try to look up and see but my neck doesn’t allow me.
This side of the blade feels colder.
It fills me with all the doubt and.regret. The silhouette of the same earth I saw before becomes darker. Dull.
Wind brushes my cheek, creeps into my soul.
Chilling my bones.
I shudder.
A gust of wind is swept up as I feel him thrust.
This is it.
All I remember is the cold.
He used the colder side of the blade.